Oct 3, 2018 6:04:11 GMT -6
Theodore "Theo" Barns "Justice and past mistakes are two different things, and I have both." | |||||||||
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APPEARANCE | |||||||||
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Theodore's appearance, although common and mostly seen almost everywhere, holds a supreme authority unlike anything others have ever seen. His hair is brown and so are his eyes, but those eyes which stare always spark a sense of authority and a just view in life, just as a policeman is expected to look. He stands at a height of 5'9 (a rather average type of height) and 158 lbs, accompanied by an athletic body that makes it easy to run around. Noticeably, Theodore is never seen without his eyeglasses. It has been almost a trademark accessory, though he does wear it for a purpose. | |||||||||
PERSONALITY | |||||||||
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It's only natural for policemen to want the sole peace and harmony for their country. Theodore is no exception to this. He dreams of making Lorsette a better place where there is less crime to happen, although he does not really follow this as he knows it's all ambition and no work. Theodore is passionate about his beliefs and would speak without any hindrance. He stands by the law and is generally friendly to those close to him, or to acquaintances; it makes for a great service to the community and not be more of a threat to the citizens they are supposed to protect. However, he does have a fair share of negative traits. He is insistent on finishing a job even when others try to stop him from doing so if he manages to overwork himself. Sometimes he comes home tired, and when he does, he becomes a grouch and tends to become impatient (mostly because he lacks some sleep). In arguments, he speaks without stopping and will always make sure he makes a point, but will listen if the anger manages to subside. Due to his reputation as a reaper, he also has high tendencies of being sadistic while watching the various suffering of both the impure and pure of heart, though he snaps out of that stance immediately. This only happens at rare times, but when it does happen it is best to be careful, as sometimes he has no control over his sadism. | |||||||||
ABILITIES | |||||||||
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SOUL SENSORY - natural Theodore can see the souls of mortals through a greyscale spectrum, a white soul being pure and a black soul impure. This makes it easier to determine a criminal from a mere civilian, so this ability proves a useful feat against those who commit crimes against the law. NECROMANCY - advanced It's only natural for a reaper such as Theodore to be able to practice the art of black magic. Surprisingly, Theodore knows a great deal of necromancy and sometimes does it whenever he feels like it. Necromancy includes communicating with the dead (although he could communicate with them already as he is also technically dead), as well as control the physical, soulless bodies of the dead with this magic and bring them back to life. FEAR INDUCEMENT - natural Theodore can strike fear to the hearts of people just by being near them an not touching them at all. It's a natural ability for reapers to allow others to be afraid of them, but for Theodore it becomes quite of a hindrance whenever he tries to speak to someone, though eventually the fear will subside down after a few minutes. SEANCE - intermediate Whenever he needs to talk to an undead person, he conjures seances in an attempt to communicate with them and hold meetings to share information with what he learned and what they learned as well. Unfortunately for Theo, he is not experienced with this ability and it would take only about ten to fifteen minutes before the seance will disperse, making the meetings with undead only temporary for a short period of time. MINOR SOUL MANIPULATION - advanced The ability to change the morals of a person from good to bad, black to white, vice versa. Theodore often attempts this on criminals who refuse to confess to their crimes, and often times these attempts of changing heart is successful; but those with a strong will to remain good or bad proves harder to change. MINOR HEALING FACTOR - natural Theodore has the ability to heal his and others wounds, but unlike others who heal instantly, his species' healing factor requires days to weeks before the injury or wound is healed. Minor wounds only take about a few hours or a whole day depending on how big, but larger ones -- including deadly wounds -- need more than a week to heal. He is careful to use this ability only when absolutely necessary, however, as healing for weeks often leads to a comatose. GUN POSSESSION - expert Theodore has received enough training to be an expert on how to wield a gun and shoot and point it. As a policeman he is entrusted by the law to hold a gun as a necessary sign of his authority, though he does keep another gun that he uses whenever he is out of work to bust criminals. Sometimes he becomes reckless when wielding one, though, which is dangerous. | |||||||||
HISTORY | |||||||||
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Father: Carlos Barns (45, adopted father), deceased; biological father unknown Mother: Unknown, presumably deceased Sibings: None; he was born an only child | |||||||||
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T.W.: suicide and murder, attempted abortion "...Why did you have to be born?" "I just want... to remove you from my womb and have nothing to do with you..." "But why are you still here? Why are you still not dead?" "I want you dead. I don't want you at all." "I shall curse you. May Thanatos have his way with you." "...It doesn't work." "Please... just get this child away from me. Throw him in a canal or trashcan or something. I don't care. Just keep him away from me." "I don't want to be with the abomination that man had created using me." "It doesn't have to die, just... get him away from me." "Please." "...Don't make me feel guilty. Please." ~*~ He's a boy who does not remember much. The boy, unnamed, is a street urchin trying to survive. He has no family, no friends, just imply himself and the every day coins he manages to stave off from clueless individuals. Only at the ripe age of 5, he's trying desperately to survive. He belonged to the animals that roamed the streets, classified as a stray. But he still felt human. He has always been a human, not a stray pet. The only similarity between him and those animals is his will to survive, no matter what place he went in. He needs to survive, no matter what the circumstance he is in. Even with the world against him, he will stand on his own, even without the evident need for parents. ...However, even the wishes of being independent simply cannot be accomplished. He needed adults. To take care of him, to feed him and take care of him when no one else can. Not even he can sustain his personal needs; his practicality had made sure that he would know of that. One fateful day, hungry and not able to find anything to eat for more than a few weeks, he lay on the ground, preparing to die of starvation. No more running around, no more trying to find food and water in the dirty streets, no more fighting against cats and dogs just to get the upper hand. Eyes hazy, he prepared for the sweet kiss of death to take him away. So much for trying to survive. ~*~ He opens his eyes and finds himself in a dark void; there's nothing to see, nothing to hear. There's no one around him, just his small pale figure sitting on empty space. He doesn't remember much anymore, except his death in an alley. And the days before that, when he was a hungry child searching for food and getting into fights with stray animals. People had kicked him around before when he'd asked for loose change when he was only three. His life in the streets was unpleasant, and he tried not to remember any of that. And that voice. That voice, he always remembers. Clearly a female, an older one. She'd wished to remove him from her life, wished for someone to curse him. Exactly what he did to trigger these statements, he wasn't sure. But she did not want him, that much was clear. He could only assume she was his mother. But she did not want him. And suddenly, in such a dull and empty void, his entire body shivers, he feels so sick and ready to throw up. An aura consumes him completely, a filthy and deadly one; he doesn't know how he is able to suppress it, his body is being corrupted and he doesn't know why- His mother, asking for someone to curse him. He wonders if this is a curse, the beginning of it. The aura completely envelopes him after mere moments. He screams, calling out to someone, anyone, to save him. But his calls fall in deaf ears; he keeps screaming, screaming, begging to be killed- And at that, after minutes of sheer pain, he blacks out. ~*~ He opens his eyes for the second time. And this time, he is staring at a brown ceiling. ...Ceiling? Am I in a home...? From what he could tell through blurry eyes, he is laying on a bed, and the brown ceiling above him doesn't fade. Looking around, he doesn't see much, but he could at least make out furniture, albeit not too sure what exactly they are. He wonders if he is being tortured again. Not that he would care. Curses surely involve punishment, and he has to pay for his mother's distaste in him. But then he turns left, and casts his head slightly upward. There is a man staring at him, sitting on a stool. And for some reason, he's holding a weapon between his legs, though he doesn't point it directly at his face. "Ah, kid. You're awake." He hears the man say. His senses are coming back to him now; he could feel his large hand pressing against his forehead, and he almost flinches as the headache from yesterday is still there. "Sit, but don't stand. You don't want to get another convulsion again." He could only blink at this. As he watches the man walk to the nearby kitchen and place the weapon against the wall, he wonders if he'd seen him last night. "C-Convulsion...?" Through a weak voice, he manages to ask, not sure if he'd said that right. "Y-You saw me last night, sir?" The man gives him a look, quirking a brow. "You don't remember anything, do you? Well, no shit though. You were on the brink of death yesterday." At the mention of death, he shivers uncontrollably, though he doesn't know why. "No, no... you're already dead." He swallows. "Me...? Dead?" "Spotted you yesterday afternoon, attracting flies. Was gonna leave you alone when you suddenly just started moving, shaking uncontrollably. Asked everyone if they knew you... they didn't want to talk about it." The man shakes his head and sighs. "So I decided I'd take you in. Was preparing the rifle in case you suddenly jumped and attacked me, but that never happened. And right there, in front of me, on the bed you are on right now, I saw a corpse slowly regaining its life." He swallows yet again. "So I... I..." "You should be grateful you got a second chance, son. Usually, cases like yours are deemed supernatural and unbelievable, but the world today is riddled with exactly that. Can't say I'm surprised. I've seen a lot like you who got revived like that." Tears spring out of his eyes, and he tries to wipe them off with small arms, but it's useless. He sees the man turn to his direction, a frown on his face. He'd clearly seen episodes like this before, the boy notes, but he doesn't care. He's sad and betrayed and angry at the same time, for some stupid reason he couldn't quite pinpoint yet. The man turns off the sink and walks up to him once more, placing the stool nearer to the bed. "If you wanna cry, if you wanna lash out, go ahead and do it. Nobody's stopping you anymore, kid, not the cruel world we live in." He covers his face with both hands and sobs pitifully. He doesn't lash out; he's just questioning his sanity, his existence, and he doesn't run out of inquiries for his miserable self. "Why didn't you just kill me, sir...?" He cries, but he gets no response. "I would have liked it if you got done with me... wh-why...? Why did you let me live...?" He gets no response from those either. At least for a few moments. "I couldn't kill you, kid. Not in a million years." He cries more and more hearing that. ~*~ He gets closer to the man who took him in; he becomes grateful for the roof above his head, and the deer that he hunts which serves as their food. He learns about the man's living conditions, and comes to terms with the rules he lays out for him. He grows up in the care of the kind man, and he would not have it any other way. After a few more days, he finally gets to ask his name. "Carlos Barns. But you can call me Papa if you want." When he is asked for his own name, he lowers his head. "You weren't given a name?" He nods. "Alright then. How does Theodore sound? Theo for short." A sparkle of joy fills his eyes at that. He smiles and nods again, this time enthusiastically; he doesn't know what's gotten into him, exactly, but he's crying again, yet now he finds the strength to actually hug the man. "Thanks, Papa. I... I love my name." Carlos smiles and pats his head. And there, Theo realizes... this man is the closest thing he has for a father, for a parent. ~*~ He spends 10 years under the Carlos' care. He becomes Theodore Barns, and he's happy more than anything. Carlos is a good father, even with the fact that he is undead. He'd always wanted a son, and Theo is a fine exception to that. At 15, Theo spends his time studying and learning. His father makes him attend school in the city, just near the forest where they lived. He meets new friends, gains quite a bit of popularity; he becomes best friends with a Jason in particular, rather quiet but very kind to everyone around him. Theo becomes one of the top students in their section, and, after another year ends, one of the top students overall. Years pass by quietly. He and Carlos are living happily in their small home in the forest, him a good son and his father the kind man that he is. Theodore is finally prepared to go to college after finishing high school, and Carlos couldn't have been any more proud of him. At age 19, his father takes him to a new house that he had bought specifically for Theodore to inhabit. Of course, Theo is grateful, but he could not imagine his father without him. Carlos reassures him, however. He will be fine on his own, he says. Theo's future is what's most important, and Carlos would make sure that he'd provide for him. Again, Theo is grateful. Apparently his father had gained the money to buy the house from his hunting business, selling the meat of the animals he had hunted. Theodore was told of that business before in his childhood. The business is running great; but he could not help and remember the awful people his father had often described in one of his stories. Nothing bad happens, not yet. Not until he turned 22, when he became a recruit police officer like he had always wanted to be. ~*~ He doesn't want to remember any of that. He doesn't want to remember the faces of his father's perpetrators, the men who he'd gotten into a vicious fight with after he'd come home for a visit. They were holding guns, his father's was on the floor. They were bad men from the hunting business, and they wanted father's earnings. He doesn't want to remember the blood on the floor, the fists cracking against faces; he doesn't want to remember what he saw in their hearts, so black and impure and malicious. He doesn't want to remember the fire spreading across the house after one of the men threw a lighter on the bed covered in gasoline- He doesn't want to remember the defeated look on his father's face; the way he crawls out of the burning house with the two men stabbing him to death. He doesn't want to remember the fact that he'd picked the rifle before the fire intensified- "Kill me, Theo-" No, he doesn't want to remember that. But his father is dead. He shot him in the head. And because he'd killed his father, a sudden rage and insanity rises from his soul. He killed the two men who'd attacked his father in the first place. Those were his first three victims. For the two men, he felt nothing for them but rage and satisfaction in ending their lives. But for his father... "Papa... Papa, I'm so sorry..." He doesn't want to remember anymore of that. ~*~ The burning of the house in the forest has caused quite an uproar in the city. The matter was taken care of rather quickly; once the fire had subsided, three bodies were recovered from the remains, burned to a crisp. According to investigation, three weapons were also recovered from the crime scene, also burned. Fingerprints were unidentified, but forensic sciences were working on uncovering the truth of the fire. Theodore did not go to the police to tell him what had happened. He'd kept it a secret until now. He tries to let go of that accident, so persistent in clinging to his conscience. Everyday life is simple for others, but for Theo, he traverses the streets with a heavy heart. Work doesn't seem as fulfilling as it had been when father was there to celebrate his accomplishments. Every day is a nightmare, and he's going through it alone. But then he remembers that others are suffering worse than he is. Through the years, still with constant persistence and dissipating indifference, he works hard to reach his goals. Becoming a policeman means to help attain peace in the city; so over the years, he works with determination, wanting to rid Lorsette of injustice and crime. He's kind to everyone, as well. He takes Jason Flanagan in after he discovers his reasons for running away from home. At age 26, he becomes a prominent police officer, and watches as Jason, through all the jobs and occupations he'd gone through, becomes a TRS agent, much with the same goal he has. He is still very much guilty for killing his father, and keeping the truth away from everyone. If there is punishment for his crimes, he is ready to accept it. But for now, to help everyone and do them good is more important than his own welfare. He is one with the city, and he vows to protect it. I hope you are proud, Papa. | |||||||||
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